"Alas, Rachel! thou art in eternal peril because of thy lovely face. Beauty is a curse to a bondwoman. What I beheld in truth yesterday I have seen in dreams—the discourteous hand put forth to seize thee and the power back of it to enforce its demand. And yet, I would not wish thee old and uncomely, for that, too, is a curse to the bondwoman," she added with a reflective shrug of the shoulders.
"If I but knew his name—" Rachel pondered aloud.
"What matter?" the old woman answered almost roughly. "Suffice it to know that he is a knave and a noble and hath evil in his heart against thee."
"Now, if I might dye my hair or stain my face—" Rachel began after a pause.
"Thou foolish child! It would not wear, nor hide thy charm at all!"
"But I dread the quarries for thee, Deborah. If only we might be hidden here, somewhere."
"Come, dost thou want to marry Atsu?" the old woman demanded harshly.
The girl turned toward her, her face flushed with resentment.
"Nay! And that thou knowest. For this very mingling with Egypt is Israel cursed. The idolatrous have reached out their hands in marriage and wedded the Hebrews away from the God of Abraham. When did an Egyptian desert his gods for the faith of the Hebrew he took in marriage? Not at any time. Therefore have we fed the shrines of the idols and increased the numbers of the idolaters and behold, the hosts of Jehovah have dwindled to naught. Therefore is He wroth with us, and justly. For are there not pitiful shrines to Ra, Ptah and Amen within the boundaries of Goshen? Nay, I wed not with an idolater," she concluded firmly.
Deborah's wrinkled face lighted and she put a tender arm about the girl.